Tourist Like The Termite Queen Poem by Sheena Blackhall

I need cool. I need temperature control
Thermoregulation is a must
I manufacture my climate
Like a spaceman.
The fan whirrs round and round
It mesmerizes. I lie spread-eagled
On the cotton sheets shielded from flies, mosquitoes
The teeming world outside
Swarming and strident

I have pills to calm me down, to sooth my aches
I have pills to help me sleep, to keep me happy.

I am sampling another culture
Through pharmaceutical armor
I dare not drink the water
Eat the food

I make small sallies out, not far from base
Snatching tiny snapshots to digest
Later, they’ll regurgitate as poems

The fan whirrs round and round. It mesmerizes.